


Coffee, Cake and Coming Out

by fredbassett



Series: Taking the Rough with the Smooth [5]
Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: “You two are so bloody cute!” Jonny May announced, broadcasting his opinion to anyone in a kilometre blast radius.
Relationships: Goerge Ford/Danny Cipriani
Series: Taking the Rough with the Smooth [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863124
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Coffee, Cake and Coming Out

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely Luka for betaing this into shape.

“What do you fancy doing today?” Danny’s head was a comfortable weight on George’s shoulder and his warm tongue had just been swirling around George’s nipple. 

“We’ve got a day off and you need to rest your knee.” 

“Wasn’t suggesting a hike up Leckhampton Hill, more like a trip to a coffee shop. We could maybe hook up with Jonny and Soph if they’re not busy. Does your diet run to croissants?”

George combed his fingers through Danny’s hair. “I could be persuaded.”

“Shower then go straight out? It’ll be easier to park if we get there early.”

“OK. We can have a shag this afternoon.”

Danny’s laugh ghosted over George’s chest. “Christ, Ford, ever the bloody romantic!”

George wriggled out from under his lover’s encircling arm. “I like to have plans and stick to them and if you keep snuggling I’ll get hard, then we won’t get anywhere early.”

“Plans are good, especially when they involve a shag. So I suppose sharing a shower together’s out?”

George answered that with a thrown pillow that caught Danny on the chest.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Fifteen minutes later, George managed to nab a parking space opposite the chic café they’d gone to when he’d still been deep in the shit over Sam Burgess’ antics. At 8am the Scandinavian Coffee Pod was still fairly empty and they were able to get a table in the corner. George ordered a skinny flat white and a croissant, while Danny went for a double espresso and a pain au chocolat. Both pastries had enough butter to sink any diet, but George fully intended to burn off a few calories later in the day.

“Have you decided whether you’re going to do anything about Ackermann? He needs to stamp on his little shit of a son before he gets any more out of line.” George was still fucking incensed about the way Ackermann Jnr and his god-bothering mates had dog-piled Danny in a training skirmish. He hated injustice, causing Owen to occasionally take the piss out of his idealism, and he firmly believed that bullying had no place in any sport.

“Can’t be arsed.” Danny broke off a piece of his pastry and held it out to George. “It’ll only let the fuckers know they’ve got to me, and that’ll make things worse. The lads are keeping an eye on him now. He won’t get the chance to pull a stunt like that twice.”

George let Danny feed him the chunk of chocolate croissant, feeling the rise of a faint flush at the public intimacy, quickly dispelled by the fond look on Danny’s face. George had been surprised to discover that his lover, despite his bad boy image, was an incurable romantic at heart. He licked the crumbs from his lips then reached out to lightly touch the back of Danny’s hand. Danny looked at him questioningly.

George leaned forward and kissed Danny lightly on the lips, ignoring the fluttering feeling under his ribs as he held his lover’s hand tightly, drawing confidence from Danny’s firm grip and the thumb stroking circles on the inside of his wrist.

“You two are so bloody cute!” Jonny May announced, broadcasting his opinion to anyone in a kilometre blast radius.

George turned in time to see Sophie elbow her husband hard in the ribs, a jab that would have earned her a penalty for foul play on the pitch.

Jonny looked aggrieved. “I said they were cute, not weirdly hot! What’s wrong with that?”

Sophie’s eyes executed a neat back flip. She could take Olympic gold for her expressions when it came to wrangling her husband. “Get the coffees, Jonny.” She pulled over two chairs. “Sorry about him. He got bored and wandered off when tact was being handed out. If you don’t want him to say anything, I’ll threaten to duct tape his lips shut.”

“I heard that!”

“I know where the duct tape is and I’m not afraid to use it!”

The door swung open again and two of Danny’s teammates walked in. George recognised Mark Atkinson and Henry Trinder. He knew Danny liked them both and that they’d both supported him in the incident with Ackermann. George slackened his grip, letting go of Danny’s hand.

“Hey, Fordy, how’s it going?” With a nod to the guy behind the counter, Henry pulled up another table and two more chairs to widen the group.

“Good,” George acknowledged. “You?”

“Ackermann’s a cunt - sorry, Soph – but apart from that, fine.”

“Don’t get Jonny started,” Sophie said. “He’ll let rip then we’ll get banned for mentally scarring the other customers, and I like the coffee here.”

“Refill?” Mark called from the counter.

George and Danny both accepted the offer, and then concentrated on the serious business of finishing their pastries before Jonny got his thieving fingers on them.

“How’re you doing?” Henry asked, fixing Danny with a shrewd stare.

Danny shrugged. “OK.”

“It’s fucking outrageous,” George muttered, keeping his voice low. “That sort of crap’s got no place in the game.”

“Preaching to the converted, mate.” Mark set the coffees down on the table and plonked himself down on a chair. “Ackermann Junior’s a little shit and daddy’s a bigger shit. There’s a rumour going around that we might not have the pleasure of their company for too much longer.”

“Chance’d be a fine fucking thing,” Danny said. 

Jonny reached over and ruffled Danny’s hair. “We’ve got your back, mate. Little fucker won’t get a chance to pull a stunt like that twice.”

George watched as Danny consciously forced himself to relax and enjoy the company of his friends. Aki and Trinny, as they were usually known, were easy to talk to and made sure to include George in their chat, explaining any in-jokes he might have missed and clueing him up on the gossip. George knew perfectly well that he wasn’t great at small talk but when rugby was the topic, he was in his element.

The time passed quickly and George found himself relaxing more and more. He even accepted the offer of a second pastry, which turned out to be the biggest cinnamon and raison roll he’d ever seen, making Danny’s chocolate and nut brownie pale into insignificance by comparison. The brownie was scoffed with indecent haste and George caught his lover casting a longing glance at what was left on George’s plate. 

George imitated one of Sophie’s eye rolls and pulled off a couple of centimetres of his own pastry and fed the morsel to Danny the way they’d got used to doing in their own kitchens. Then, without thinking, he lightly brushed a crumb away from the corner of Danny’s mouth – and promptly froze like a rabbit in the headlights as he replayed the last minute in his mind and fought the blush that was steadily rising up his cheeks.

Henry looked at them, puzzled but not disapproving. “Are … are you two … an item?” 

A moment later, he winced as Mark kicked him under the table and commented, “Sorry about this idiot. You don’t have to answer that. But don’t forget, we’ve still got your backs.”

Danny looked at George, uncertainty mingling with a flicker of something that George chose to interpret as hope. George drew in a slow breath to steady himself then reached out and laid his hand on top of Danny’s. “Thanks, Aki. Yeah … we’re an item. Have been since the Burgess crap got going.”

Warm fingers curled into his and then they were holding hands like a couple of teenagers on a first date and grinning shyly.

“Told you they were cute!” Jonny said approvingly.

“Are you going to make any sort of announcement?” Henry asked.

George’s eyes widened. “Fuck, we haven’t even thought about it.”

Mark shrugged. “You wouldn’t be expected to if either of you was dating a girl. I don’t see why this should be any different. It’s nobody else’s bloody business.”

“The press’ll get hold of it sooner of later,” Danny said, tightening his grip on George’s fingers. “They always bloody do.”

“So tell Eddie and Geordan Murphy just in case it does turn into a media feeding frenzy and maybe have a statement ready.” Mark looked thoughtful then added, “Don’t bother telling Ackermann. God-bothering cunt.”

An elderly woman at the next table turned her head at his words and George’s heart sank. The lads meant well but they weren’t subtle and they sure as hell weren’t quiet.

George was about to apologise when she nodded vigorously. “Please tell me he’ll bugger off to Japan at the end of the season, lads.” Her smile was warm, tinged with a hint of gentle amusement. “And I’m very happy for you both.”

“You’re the lady with the red setter on Cleeve Hill,” Danny said, giving her a wide smile.

“Guilty as charged. Sorry about Boris’ cold wet nose.”

“Boris?”

“Totally bloody brainless, bounces in, makes a complete mess and expects someone else to clear it up.”

“Sounds like our Rottie,” Sophie said. 

“Sounds like Jonny …” Henry Trinder muttered, earning him a squawk of outrage from his friend.

They chatted for another half an hour before Sophie announced she was dragging Jonny off to do some shopping. Jonny looked less than enthusiastic but knew better than to argue. The group parted with hugs and handshakes and as they left the café, George realised that that at some point in the last couple of hours, the tight knot of tension that had formed in his chest at the public acknowledgment of their relationship had been dissolved by the warm acceptance he’d had from Danny’s teammates. And as they walked back to the car, he had no qualms about slipping his arms around Danny’s waist.

Danny turned to him and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Christ, you’re cute when you blush. Have I ever told you that?”

George rolled his eyes. “Yes, several times. Have we just come out in public?”

“Looks like it.” Danny put his arms protectively around George. “Are you OK with that?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

**** 

“Fuck, that was good!” George rolled over onto his side and nuzzled Danny’s ear, sucking lightly on the lobe.

Danny ran his hand over George’s arse, feeling the tremors still coursing through his lover’s body. “How does it feel now that other people know about us?”

George nipped Danny’s ear lightly, sending a shiver of pleasure up and down his spine. “Fine – I think. Ask me again when the press get hold of it.”

Danny’s arm tightened protectively around him. He knew fucking well that there was going to be a media storm at some point, probably sooner rather than later. He’d been there, done that and worn the sodding teeshirt. George hadn’t. The Sam Burgess saga would pale into insignificance against two openly gay players, especially when one of them already had a bad boy image. That, coupled with George’s boy next door vibe, would have the tabloids positively salivating.

“You need to talk to Eddie.”

George’s breath was warm on Danny’s neck as he sighed. “Yeah. Tomorrow?”

“Whenever you want. You don’t have to rush it. Aki’s right, it’s nobody else’s business.”

“But it will be.”

“Don’t cross bridges before we get to them. Eddie’ll be fine with it. He’s mad as a box of frogs, but he’s not homophobic, and Faz and the lads will have your back. It’ll be fine, Fordy. And if it’s not, I’ll whisk you off to a cottage in the middle of nowhere and shag your brains out.”

“Works for me.”

Danny smiled and kissed him. “And for me.”


End file.
